“I want more.”
Chapter Five
Ah, sensei, you have taught me well. Thank you for owning a gym guaranteed to help me pull.
August 6th, 1999
“This is me.”
I shoved the key in the lock as Kelly – I think – or Katy massaged my shoulders. We’d been to McDonald’s. I was nice enough to buy her a Big Mac and now we were back at the gym where I would seal the deal.
She was nice, Kelly/Katy. She had nice tits – I guessed they were real, judging by the way they bounced when she laughed. She had a nice butt, too, and didn’t mind when I copped a feel as we left the home of the golden arches. It didn’t matter really. I wouldn’t give a hoot if she changed her mind and walked that sweet ass back out. There was always another one waiting in the wings.
Asshole? Me? Yeah, I was.
“I like it,” she purred when I opened the door.
Like a true gent, I let her in first and flipped the switch for the lights, illuminating my hard work. The gym didn’t smell anymore; not after a proper scrub and discovering the source of the stench. A pair of mouldy socks under the ring. I’d cleaned it for the last six years and I was proud of it. I’d plastered and painted the walls, replenished the covers on the punchbags and replaced the rusty chains they hung from.
“It’s a decent place,” I shrugged.
“How many guys do you have training here?”
Round One to me. She was interested in the other muscle heads, which meant she wouldn’t expect monogamy from me.
“About fifteen.”
“And they answer to you?”
She stalked towards me with an intentional swish to her hips she didn’t have earlier.
“Something like that.”
“That’s hot.”
She folded her arms and leaned on one hip. She was trying to seduce me, but it was unnecessary. I’d let her play her little game, let her think she’d trapped me with her charm, but the truth was, I was already thinking about pulling out once I’d satisfied my need. Her eyes drank me in; she undressed me with her provocative gaze. I didn’t care. I had my mask firmly in place. She could take all she wanted from the surface, I’d been objectifying her since I first saw her in her painted on jeans and tee three days ago.
I was cold, I was a shell of a man, emotionally incapable and unwilling, but I lowered my tone so it vibrated from my chest and creamed the little lace thong I’d seen exposed when Kelly/Katy bent over. I stretched my arm out and pointed to the hallway.
“Upstairs.”
Chapter Six
I didn’t have a sibling. It sucked not having anyone to share the pain with, but I was happy no one had been dealt the same hand as me. The one covered in shit. But then he walked in and I found a brother…
December 15th, 2001
I laughed with the boys; the laugh that wasn’t really a laugh, but they didn’t know that. As usual when we took a break from training, the conversation had turned to women. We had been trained to watch the human body; to pick up on strengths and weaknesses. We could spot tendon strain, ligament damage or fading cramp and we knew how to exploit them. Naturally, good legs, a tight core and girls with stamina caught our eyes.
The bell above the door rang and a kid with dark hair and sad eyes walked in and looked anxiously around. I’d never seen him before, but he had decent posture and fairly defined muscle.
“Can I help you, mate?”
I got up off the floor and made my way to the front desk. He couldn’t have been much older than I was when I started earning from fights. It was a long time before I had the control to be let loose in the ring.
“I’m looking for a job.”
He was nervous. Something inside me switched and I wanted to know why.
“We don’t hire, it’s all internal. What is it you’re looking for?”
“Anything. I’m working at the metalwork factory, but I need something else.”
“You’re just a kid,” I frowned. “What do you want with two jobs?”
“Long story,” he sighed and the little crease in his brow revealed a lot more stress than an eighteen-year-old should be under. “Thanks anyway.”
He turned to leave, but I stopped him.
“Are you looking for money or a way out?”
He bowed his head and kept his back to me.
“Both, I guess.”
“Come back at 8am tomorrow and we’ll sort you out.”
He thanked me, a humble, embarrassed mutter of gratitude so quiet I barely heard it and then he left the gym.
It was so cold the next morning. At 7.30, I padded downstairs and through the gym, blowing on my hands to warm them up. I was convinced he wouldn’t turn up, but when I swung the door open, letting little flakes of snow blow back in, I found him outside with his hands in the pockets of his thin jacket. I don’t know what it was about him that bothered me, but it did. I felt like I had sprouted a wing and wanted to take him under it.
“Coffee?” I asked as I opened the door and he stood up from where he was sat on the kerb.
“Nah, don’t touch the stuff.”
“Happy to hear it,” I tossed him a bottle of water, intentionally too far left, but he caught it. Good reflexes. “That shit clogs your arteries.”
“Try telling my sister that. She’s a walking cafetiere.”
I smirked and beckoned him to follow me. He had wit. I got the impression the day before that he was a bit of a sap.
“What do you press?”
“Huh?”
“Bench press. How much do you press?”
“I don’t.”
“Sheesh.” I scraped my hand through my hair pointed to the bench. “Lie down.”
He laid on the bench and I adjusted the weight.
“Press.”
I spotted him, but he lifted it easily. I increased the weight until he struggled at 110kg.
“Good.” He sat up and I handed the water back to him. “It’s all internal. We earn the money through fights. The pay is good and we pump some back into the gym. We’ve got each other’s backs. If you want to train, you take a cut of the earnings. Then once you’re sponsored, you pay your own. How does that sound?”
“Like you’ll be carrying me because I have no money. I have no experience.”
“Don’t look at it like that. We’ve all been there. Another member of the team means more money for the gym. You’ll put it back in eventually.”
“I can’t fight. My sister kicks my butt.”
“Older?”
“Twin.”
“Geez,” I laughed. “Keep that to yourself. Training is included, don’t worry. Welcome to Geoff’s Gym.”
“You’re Geoff?”
“Nah, his protégé. Or something like that. Curtis.”
“Oliver.”
We shook hands and he looked around the gym; I thought I saw a little of the tension leave him when his shoulders relaxed and a smile ghosted over his lips.
“What’s your story, Ollie?”
“Do I have to have one?”
“You told me you did the minute you walked through that door.”
He sighed and stood up.
“Tell you what. Tell me over a fry-up.” I said. He hesitated and his lips twisted. “It’s part of the initiation.”
It wasn’t, but I had money to buy the boy breakfast. I got the feeling he needed to get his gnashers around something greasy. He salivated as soon as I said the words. I grabbed my keys from the desk drawer and took Ollie to my usual breakfast joint.
“C’mon,” I said as he tore into his full English breakfast. “Tell Uncle Curtis all about it.”
“Patronising, aren’t you?”
We were going to get along just fine. Ollie had a sense of humour.
“You’ll get used to it.”
“You remind me of Skye.”
“Who?”
“My sister. The twin. We have another, Beth.”
I shook my head. “Stop def
erring. What’s up?”
I didn’t normally care. I didn’t usually bother to ask, but Ollie wanted to talk; I could see it, and for a reason unbeknown to me. I really did care.
“It’s a long story. Family stuff,” I raised my eyebrows for him to continue. “To cut it short, it’s just me and Skye. She’s my sister. I want what’s best for her.”
What he told me next shocked me. I’d seen and heard some messed up things, but nothing like that.
“We were eleven when I found out. Protecting her is all that matters now.”
Chapter Seven
What the hell was I supposed to do with that knowledge? I did the only thing I knew how to do. I stepped up and protected my new brother.
December 31st, 2002
Phil and Lois were away for New Year. Phil had to go away on some sort of business trip – God knew what for – so she went with him. Not that I was going to complain; it left the house unattended and available for use. Geoff didn’t like me having the boys in the flat. He had no problem with two or three girls at a time, but I knew better than to bring that to his attention.
I invited a few of the boys over; the ones who didn’t have family plans. I could’ve spent the night in a club, celebrating with strangers. I could have hunted out my prey in the form of a nicely tipsy single girl pining for a kiss at midnight and taken her home. But I didn’t. I planned a night in for Ollie. He couldn’t go out and I wasn’t going out without him. He wouldn’t come without his sister, so I invited her, too. Girls weren’t allowed in the group; it was a rule I made way back. If one of the boys got a girlfriend they had to go to her place or hang with her friends. We met them to give the seal of approval, but that was it. I was breaking the rules for Ollie and his sister – whatever her name was – because the fact that I knew meant he was more than one of the boys. He was family. For family, you break all the rules without question.
Ollie joined me in the kitchen and popped the caps off the beer bottles while I rummaged in the drawers for a pizza menu. The boys were all banished to the conservatory, my old playroom, for the night. When Lois said “this will always be your home”, I don’t think she extended the invitation to the entire Geoff’s Gym roster.
“Curtis?” Ollie said, the fear in his voice halting my rummaging. “I’m worried about tomorrow.”
“About the fight?” I turned to him and leaned against the counter. He nodded. “Why?”
“I’m worried I'm not ready.”
“You’re ready. Nerves are normal. Good, in fact. You’ve got this, it’s just like every other fight.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I helped him juggle the beer bottles as we left the kitchen. “This fight is yours, Juggernaut.”
I stopped him by the entrance to the conservatory.
“Make that your last beer and come to the gym in the morning. We’ll watch a movie and Geoff can go over things with you.”
“Thanks.”
“Anytime, brother.”
I had just put the beers on the table and watched the boys swarm around them when there was a faint knock on the door. I prayed it wasn’t one of the neighbours knocking to complain. I’d kept the music down low but the residents of the suburban street could be, well, suburban. I left the room and thumped down the hallway. I always judged my weight loss and gain by the depth of sound on Lois’ laminate flooring. I must have put on some weight because it sounded like The Hulk had broken into the house.
I opened the door and my jaw almost hit the floor. Jesus, the neighbours’ daughter was hot. A little scruffy and her dress was a size too big, but I could tell what was underneath. Her eyes rose from the piece of paper in her hands – and I was not one for poetic shit – but they were the colour of autumn; like, before the leaves were brown but they were no longer green - that kind of golden colour that reflected the sun. I’d never seen eyes like it; big and perceptive, and then they glistened when they met mine. Well, shit. Those eyes made my pants tighten.
“Can I help you?” I cleared my throat and waited for the snooty abuse.
She was staring. Really staring. I wasn’t what she expected; not that I was surprised by that. I just had no idea what she was thinking as she glanced between me and the piece of paper. Those eyes gave nothing away, like a golden shield of armour. Who was this girl?
“Miss?” I gave her half a smile, to see if that could initiate a reaction.
“Uh…” She licked her lips and shrugged. “Is my brother here?”
I waited for her to continue but she just stared at me like she’d never seen a man before.
“I might be able to tell you, if I know who your brother is.”
“Oliver. Oliver Jones.”
Fuck off.
“You’re Ollie’s sister?”
She nodded and responded timidly, “I am.”
That was like an ice bath for my libido. And a raging ignition for my primal instincts. Poor girl. I had to remind myself that she didn’t know so I slipped on the mask and opened the door to let her in.
“My apologies, ma’am.” Cue schoolboy grin. “You’re missing the party. Come on in.”
She stepped past me and I watched her enter the house. I was drawn to her; I didn’t want to be, but I couldn’t help it. She looked around as if searching for something but, eventually, she stood up straight, squared her shoulders and followed the sound of laughter.
Skye, that was her name. Beautiful Skye. I didn’t know her, but I knew more than she did. I wanted to dive into the past and erase it for her. I wanted to take her hand and get her out.
Only I didn’t want to want that.
I watched her all night; how she carried herself – uncomfortably, like she didn’t know herself. I watched how Skye and Ollie interacted; he loved her. He was fighting for her. He was fighting for their survival, and what was I doing? Picturing her naked and wondering how she would say my name.
Ollie fought because he had everything to lose.
I fought because I had nothing.
I was six feet under and begging to be brought back from the abyss.
Chapter Eight
The moth drawn to the flame always gets burned. He’s compelled to take the pain.
I didn’t know if I was the moth or the flame…
January 1st, 2003
Want.
One word.
A thousand interpretations.
A thousand consequences.
I’d wanted my whole life. I wanted a degree, I wanted a family, I wanted to feel worth something. And I wanted Skye Jones. I wanted her like I’d never wanted anything before, but I never got what I wanted and she would be no different. She was Ollie's sister, she was five years younger than me and she was different; she wasn’t like the others. I knew the second I saw her, she was special. She needed to be protected, cherished and respected. She needed everything I couldn’t give her.
“Cut Throat?”
I looked up to see Ollie waiting for me. He was ready. He knew this one fight, twenty-five minutes of his life, would give him and Skye everything they deserved. They were getting out. He was focused and ready to battle for it.
“Ready?” I asked, studying him as I got to my feet.
“I’m ready.” He nodded. “I’m gonna do this.”
“Yes, you are,” I grabbed the back of his neck and we left the office. “You’re Juggernaut Jones.”
We headed out of the gym to where Geoff was waiting by his car. Ollie took a deep breath and got in the car.
“He ‘kay?”
I nodded, “He’s got this. See you there.”
I climbed in the shower and let the water hit my skin like hot bullets. I bowed my head and clenched my fists by my sides. It was my usual position; I was closed even to myself. I knew I was worthless, I knew I had nothing but my fists and the mask of who I pretended to be. Cocky Cut Throat. The one all the girls talked about, in one way or another. The one the men bowed to without me having to demand it. I hadn’t even really
earned it. I didn’t want it. I did it all for those precious few moments in the ring that convinced me, for a while, that I meant something.
Skye. I craved her. I knew nothing about her; nothing but the demons Ollie kept from her, but I wanted her. A consuming ache replaced the venomous self-loathing as the water continued to pour. She threatened my control. She was a danger to my self-preservation. I knew that above everything else, but I was a selfish bastard and a glutton for punishment. I climbed out of the shower with a one-track mind. I didn’t bother wrapping a towel around me, there was no time for that. Each drip of the water that fell to the floor as I walked through the apartment, echoed around the empty space like the ominous beat of a drum.
I shook the water off like a dog, pulled on some old clothes and scrubbed an old towel over my hair. I grabbed my keys and left the gym.
“She’s not here,” the woman at the door hissed, blowing smoke in my face and scrubbing her tongue over her decaying teeth.
I wanted to tell her I knew. I wanted to shake the maternal instincts back into her, but I could see by the emptiness in her eyes that it was pointless. Her soul was as hopeless as mine.
“Can you get her to call me?”
“Sure.” She stepped back and attempted to shut the door. I stopped her with my hand against the thin hollow wood, and she halted, but she didn’t flinch. She was lifeless.
“You need the number.”
I held out the piece of paper I’d prepared outside. She snatched it off me, grunted something incoherent and slammed the door in my face, the force sending a cloud of ash enveloping me.
I knew she’d call. I didn’t know how I knew, I just did.
Until I got back to the gym and remembered I hadn’t put my name on the paper.
She called half hour later and I breathed a sigh of relief when she confirmed it was her and not a girl I’d forgotten about. I didn’t give her a choice over whether she was coming out or not. If I did, I might have backed out.
Revival Page 3